


Cigarettes for Breakfast

by botanicalTJ



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: Anger Management, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brotherhood, Canonical Character Death, Cigarettes, Drug Dealing, Dysfunctional Family, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Fainting, Family Issues, Ficlet Collection, Fights, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Minor Original Character(s), Sickfic, Tags May Change, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unresolved Emotional Tension, curtis parents death referenced, once again i put darry through hell, possible ships, title may change as well, well they're all the same story its just split into short chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28936509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/botanicalTJ/pseuds/botanicalTJ
Summary: Darry's in over his head this time, but he'll never admit it. Not even to himself.// a series of moments //
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey, y'all! i want to start off by first asking you to please read the tags and heed them according to your personal needs. this fanfiction is an exploration of grief, mental illness, eating disorders, and likewise issues during the time period the book is set in, specifically right after the death of the Curtis parents. i have done my best to research appropriately and not romanticize any of the issues reflected in this story. i will also post specific trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter, but please acknowledge your own personal limits and do not read this fanfiction if you know it will be harmful to you.
> 
> remember that you are not alone in what you are going through, and i urge you to seek the help you need if you are going through anything similar. Darry deserves better, and so do you ♡
> 
> trigger warnings for this chapter// cigarettes, description of disordered eating

It's like setting a fire on his tongue. The flame against the tip of the cigarette snakes through the paper wrapper and leaves a smoky burn in his throat if he inhales for too long, inflating his lungs enough to cloud his brain and pretend that the endorphins are natural instead of forced out of him. It's not pleasant or unpleasant. It just is. 

He glances over as someone leans up against the wall beside him. Kenneth is lighting a menthol of his own, cupping his hand around the filter to protect it from the wind. Darry let his eyes linger, studying the age lines in his face and the greying hair at the root of his temples. Kenneth is a decade older than him, at the very least, but Darry can see his own near future reflected in those worn signs of maturity. His bones already ache at night like he's been working manual labor for half of his life instead of barely the length of his adulthood. He's grown too fast, too much, too ugly for his age.

"Didn't take you for a smoker, Curtis." Kenneth's beady eyes shift over to him the moment Darry inhales another long drag of the cigarette. They make eye contact, then Darry expels smoke from his nose the moment Kenneth takes another puff. Out and back in, in near perfect sync with each other. Darry's head swims from the nicotine.

"Whatever gets me through a shift." Darry flicks ashes at his own boot, and takes a single breath of clear oxygen before his lips wrap around the cigarette once more. The taste, like a mouthful of ashes, makes him feel nauseous. Or maybe it's just his belly, full of coffee and barely enough water to get him through the day and nothing else after that. The feeling is easy enough to ignore. The lightheadedness isn't. But the smoking curbs his appetite enough to make him forget about it, if only for a little while.

He puts out his cigarette when it's halfway done. It's practically setting his own wallet on fire, with how much a pack of cigarettes costs nowadays, but he doesn't have the stomach to finish it and he should get back to the work site before their lunch break ends. As he goes, he grabs an empty burger wrapper someone left on a picnic table, so all his buddies who don't know a thing about him can see him drop it in the metal garbage can at the site's entrance. And then he can plow through the next five hours without anyone wondering how he's still upright on his feet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// fainting

His vision goes fuzzy when he's halfway up a ladder, and then all is nothing and he opens his eyes to find himself flat in the dirt. They tell him it's pure chance that there was grass to fall on, that his head was just a couple feet from hard pavement, that his body went limp enough to hit the ground ass first instead of directly impacting his spine. Boss tells him to clock out early and recover and maybe see a doctor. Because he's a lucky lucky lucky guy but maybe next time he won't be.

Didn't sleep well last night, he tells them as he drags his work boots against the concrete on the way to his truck. He promises it won't happen again. Darry goes straight home and takes an aspirin for the deepness of the ache in his bones. Next time, he'll save himself like the Superman he feels like when the clouds won't leave his head. He'll fall and then he'll fly, fly, fly away, evaporating into the sun before anyone ever notices he's gone. The thought becomes a fantasy and then fades into a dream that blurs the line of what's real, if anything is anymore. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// drug mention

"There's stronger stuff, y'know."

"What?" Darry looks up, blinking to focus his eyes on Dallas staring at him from across the room. He's stretched out on the couch and his boots are getting mud on the cushions but Darry can't bring himself to care.

"What are you doped up on? I can get it for you." Dallas gestures vaguely in his general direction, making Darry glance down. The mug of coffee he's holding has gone lukewarm, no longer hot against his palms, and he wonders how long he was staring into it.

"Hey, man, I get it." Darry's eyes snap back up and he remembers the unanswered question. He wasn't quick enough, apparently, because the towheaded greaser is sitting forward with his elbows on his knees now, like they were sharing an intimate conversation between friends instead of Dallas trying to make a quick buck off a deal. "Gotta have a little something extra to keep you going now and then."

He looks like a snake, waiting for the chance to strike with shards of glass for eyes and the slightest hint of a grin wanting to make its appearance. He's probably "doped up" on something himself, but Darry doesn't care enough to ask. "I'm fine," he replies shortly, bringing the mug up to his lips even though the coffee is terribly bitter when it's not scalding his tongue.

"Whatever you got in your system now isn't doin' you no good." Dallas is ragging on him now, it's clear in his voice, but there's still an edge that makes it clear how serious he is. Darry stands up from his armchair, sets his mug on the side table even though he's barely taken a sip. He feels like he's moving underwater.

"Leave it, Dally." Even his voice sounds ragged, like he's been shouting himself hoarse for days when really he doesn't say much at all anymore. He stands in place for a moment, not looking at anything as he gathers his senses and waits for the room to go still again.

"Is it uppers? I can get you better ones, man." Dallas still won't quit, even though Darry's halfway turned away from him now, not interested in even entertaining the idea. But he still won't quit. "What are you on, anyway?"

"My life." Darry knows it's absurd and it leaves his lips anyways, barely more than a mumble as he's walking towards the hallway. But it casts a rigid silence over the room and he's free to sink into his head again. His legs take him to his bedroom before he even fully has a chance to rationalize how reasonable it would be to just lay down for awhile before he has to figure out his brothers' dinner. And as he drifts off, still fully clothed atop the sheets, his stomach aches.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// disordered eating mention

"You finished with that science project yet?" The scrape of the spoon against the saucepan, metal against metal, grinds against his eardrums so loud he can't think except to zero in on what his brother is doing at the kitchen table. Ponyboy's got a notebook in front of him and a textbook open beside it and he's staring off into space, like he always is. He doesn't answer even though Darry's just a few feet away at the stove, until his brother leans over and snaps his fingers right next to his face. Ponyboy's eyes flick upwards immediately, alert but with annoyance clear on his face.

"What, Darry?" His tone is irritated and Darry's immediately on edge, his own annoyance settling in his chest. There's no reason for it, Ponyboy isn't doing anything except sitting at the table, but everything possible seems to set off that spark of irritation lately. So Darry locks his jaw and sharpens his gaze, no longer paying attention to the pasta and tomato sauce simmering on the stove.

"I asked if you'd done your science project yet." He cranes his neck to confirm what he suspected, that the notebook is empty except for a few scribbles at the top. He heaves a sigh and puts his spoon down on the counter, and it's already too late to fully suppress the harshness that's threatening to spew from his mouth. "You've been sittin' here this whole time doin' what? Gettin' lost in that head of yours?"

"I'm not even doing science, Darry, it's history stuff," Pony shoots right back, indignantly putting his textbook on top of the notebook so Darry couldn't see the page anymore. "How am I supposed to work on a science project without my science partner, huh?"

"I didn't realize you'd figured out how to read a book without cracking open the cover." Darry gestures towards the textbook, eyeing it like it's a pair of Soda's dirty socks or some other offending item on the clean kitchen table. "Gonna start collecting dust soon if you don't get it together, kid." His tone drips with sarcasm and he even knows that there's no need to give his brother a hard time. Daydreaming or not, Pony is good about getting his work turned in, it always says so on his report cards. But these arguments are happening more and more lately and they're both too stubborn to back down from them without putting up a fight. And in Darry's case, his whole life feels like he's putting up a fight these days. 

"Like you're one to talk about getting it together," Pony snaps back at him, effectively striking a nerve so sharply Darry's anger morphs momentarily into chagrin. He sucks his cheeks in, nostrils flaring in an exhale that barely skims the shame off the pool of emotion in his chest. Pony scoots his chair back and stands up, hastily gathering his school materials into his arms. "All you do at home anymore is sit in Dad's armchair and stare at nothing. Like you can't even stand to be here."

The words are like a punch to the gut, shocking him into silence and making his stomach feel sour. He shakes his head wordlessly, swallowing until his throat doesn't feel painfully dry. This is different from the usual jabs he got back when he fought with his brother. This is personal, this feels like an invasion of privacy even though he's clearly overt enough about his issues-that-aren't-issues that others notice it. "Listen," he begins, blood rushing so loud in his ears that he has to raise his voice to hear himself speak. "I wake up every day, work my ass off to put food on this table, to keep a goddamn roof over your head-"

"What's going on?" His tirade is cut off into a quick shock of silence, the thick tension of the room choking the words in his throat. Sodapop stands in the kitchen doorway, still wearing his work clothes with grease smeared on his cheek and his work hat on backwards. Pony's already moving to stand at Soda's side, playing the innocent brother role before Darry can get a word of defense in for himself. And once again, the reality of the situation crashes over him; once again, he's become the cause of disruption and distress, created dysfunction through his own inability to keep his emotions bottled up. 

Soda's looking at him with clear judgement on his features, but before he can say more about what he'd just witnessed, Darry looks away and directs his gaze towards their forgotten dinner. It's bubbling in the pan and the noodles are probably mushy by now, but he doesn't care because he won't be eating it anyways. He shoves the spoon, tomato sauce pooled on the countertop, into Soda's hands. "Finish this up," he orders more sternly than he means to, brushing past both his brothers and heading straight for the front door. No one tries to stop him or even question him as he pulls on his shoes, and as he's stepping out of the house with no jacket despite the chill brushing against his arms, he can hear his absence echoing in Ponyboy's laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this chapter took me so long to post. most of this story is already written, just being edited as i go, but this is a difficult piece for me to write and it takes me awhile to face it sometimes. i'll try to be better about updates in the future, and thank you for your patience xx

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading :)


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